Six years ago today, my world came crashing to a halt.  Or at least it felt that way.  I was in New York City visiting my gypsy friends  and was excited because I had been snowed in and my trip home had been delayed by two days.  I was supposed to fly out on Monday, but they were not able to get me a flight out of the city until Wednesday afternoon because of all of the snow.

Late on Tuesday night, I woke up at about 1:00 a.m. gasping for air.  At the time, I didn’t know if I’d had a bad dream or if I was just hot or what had awoken me.  I eventually fell back to sleep.

On Wednesday morning, at about 5:00 (or so) the phone rang.  We all were sleeping, but we immediately knew that something wasn’t right because who in their right mind would ever think to call us at such an ungodly hour?  We scrambled for the phone, which happened to be right over my head and my heart sunk when I saw the caller ID was from my home state.  My first and immediate thought was that something had happened to my dad (you all know about his struggles with his epilepsy).  I was terrified.  I was about to become more so.  I answered the phone and the first thing I heard from my mom, other than her tears, was “I was hoping someone else would answer the phone.”  Not good when your mom calls you in another state and says that she wished someone else had answered.

She then proceeded to tell me that my brother had been killed at about 12:15 a.m. that very morning (right about the time that I woke up).  At first, before she told me what time the accident happened, I couldn’t understand why he would have been up so early!  But then she explained that he had been going to a friend’s house after their usual Tuesday night out.  He was riding in the front passenger seat of his friend’s truck.  His friend was driving and his friend was drunk.  He was well over the legal limit.  The rest of that day was a blur to me.  My mom had to get off the phone because she was so upset, so I wasn’t able to find out what really happened.  I think I spent the rest of the day feeling like a zombie.  I somehow got myself home – I didn’t even know who was going to pick me up at the airport.  When I stepped off the plane, my cousin was the first person I saw.  He just gave me a big hug – which wasn’t usual for us.  He then took me over to where my mom and my aunt were waiting.

As we drove home, they explained a bit more about what was going on and that the funeral would be on the following Friday.  I just held my mom’s hand all the way home.  We had to stop by the funeral home to drop off his clothes and I about panicked.  I didn’t know that that’s what they were doing and just wasn’t ready to see him like that.  Needless to say that that was the worst, most agonizing, most heart-breaking day of my entire life.

The next couple of days also passed in a blur.  We received a lot of kind thoughts and messages from people and my brother’s friends were wonderful.  They kept in touch for several years after the crash, but we don’t hear from them much anymore.  That was to be expected.  Lives go on.  We had the visitation the next day, Thursday, which became the scene of one of the biggest regrets of my life.  And Friday, the day of my brother’s funeral, dawned sunny and warm.  It was the middle of February and we didn’t even need jackets.  Somehow we made it through.

I think one of the hardest things for me was that everywhere I turned, I had people telling me that I needed to be strong for my parents.  I understood what they meant and I can’t even begin to imagine the agony that they must have gone through, are still going through, but I found myself starting to shut down.  I forced myself to control my own agony while I was in their presence (and shortly thereafter, in anyone’s presence) and then would just absolutely lose it at night when I was by myself.  It got to the point where I didn’t even allow myself that release.  I’m still fighting my way back to allowing myself to feel again.  If you ever face a tragedy, use me as a “what-not-to-do” example.  Allow yourself to feel and share the pain.  If you don’t, it’s hard finding yourself again.  I still have trouble allowing myself to really feel strong emotion.  If I feel myself starting to cry, I only allow it for a second and then find myself forcing myself to stop.  It’s not even intentional.  It also helps explain why I gained almost 70 pounds after he died.

My immediate family (my parents, brother, and I) was extremely close-knit.  I think part of that had to do with my parents and their approach to caring for us, but also because we had been through so much with my dad’s health.  Of course, we had our absolutely roaring “I hate you” fights, but we knew deep-down that we loved each other.  As my brother and I got older, we became better and better friends.  I have to wonder what our relationship would be like today if he were still alive.

I miss him every day.  I ache for him every day.  I feel saddened by all that he didn’t get to experience of life.  And selfishly, I feel saddened by all that I missed out on and will miss out on by not having him in my life.  There’s nothing like losing a sibling.  The person you grew up with – the only other person that knew what it was like to grow up as you did – is gone.  There will never be those fun moments in the future when you reminisce about all the crazy stuff you and your parents did.  You feel completely alone.  Of course, I know that I’m not, but it’s hard.

Over the years, it has gotten somewhat easier.  I’m able to think about him now without wanting to fall to my knees and/or curl into a fetal position.  I still have fantasies where he’s standing before me and I run up and throw my arms around him for one last hug.  There are a few moments every once in a while in which I almost forget and then when I remember the finality of the fact that he’s gone, it shocks me all over again.  But I never truly forget, and am able to think of him and remember the good memories now.  We still like to talk about him often.

Life is a process.

Below are more details about the accident:

Apparently, his friend was driving about 40 miles over the speed limit (67 mph in a 25 mph zone) and missed a curve.  He hit a tree in someone’s yard and the truck flipped.  It landed upside down with the tree on top of the truck.  It was a big tree.  They say that my brother died instantly.  I truly hope that was the case so that he didn’t suffer.  We received an autopsy report and were astonished at the number of injuries he had sustained (which included, if I remember correctly, a broken skull, punctured spleen, and shattered arm, among several others).  He was only 21.

My mom’s cousin did us a favor and went over to the accident site at about 8:00 the morning of the accident.  She thought that we might want pictures of the site as they were cleaning it up and took a bunch for us.  If you click here, you can see a picture of the truck at the scene.  There’s nothing gory about it, but I didn’t want to post it here in case there was anyone who would rather not see it.  I personally think it is a terrific reminder of how important it is to not drink and drive.  Once they removed him from the truck, my brother’s body was lying where the blanket is lying on the ground.  You can also see the indentation from the tree on the front of the truck (and how bent the wheels are).

It seems that a man and his teen-aged son lived in the house where it happened and the son was sitting right inside the window at his computer when it happened.  Can you imagine how freaked you would have been?  How loud it must have been?  And if the truck had gone just a few feet further, it would have been in their house.  But we learned later that the son had taken a bunch of pictures right after the accident happened.  Several included my brother’s body lying on the ground.  Side note:  My mom is still upset that he layed there for over two hours before he was taken away and my parents were notified.  She wishes she had had the chance to go there while he was laying there. The son gave us a CD that contained a lot of the pictures he took, but I wonder what ones he might not have given us.  I won’t post any of them here out of respect for my brother.  Of course, he probably posted them somewhere out on the net himself.  While it might seem gruesome, it was actually comforting for us to have the pictures and none of the ones he gave us of my brother were very detailed.  It was also comforting to see what went on that night since we were unable to be there.

We still don’t know exactly what happened, as both of the other men that were in the truck say they can’t remember.  Both survived.  The driver served just over two years (approximately) in jail for involuntary manslaughter.

While I could go on and on about the events surrounding those traumatic days, there are just a few things I’d like you to take away from this:

1. Don’t drink and drive.  If you do, you’re playing with people’s lives, including your own.
2. Don’t ride with anyone who has been drinking.
3. Always, always wear your seat belt.  My brother wasn’t wearing his that night (even though I hounded him relentlessly about it every chance I could).
4. Hug your loved ones every chance you get.

I take today off from work every year, because it’s hard to concentrate.  So I am going to do my damnedest to enjoy the day.  We’re going hiking this morning and then we will get Little Caesar’s pizza for lunch (my brother’s favorite).  Later, we will take flowers and a balloon down to the cemetery.  It’s going to be a day of love and family and remembering.

To see pictures of how I remember my brother (including some funny pics of me when I was little) click on the image below:

Take care, my friends.